


His Welfare is my Concern

by Dontknowmyname



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Hurt Sam Winchester, Worried Dean
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-13
Updated: 2019-04-13
Packaged: 2020-01-12 10:34:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18444788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dontknowmyname/pseuds/Dontknowmyname
Summary: The sirens moved closer and Dean turned his eyes from his brother for the first time since he arrived back at the car.





	His Welfare is my Concern

**Author's Note:**

> Kind of a tag to 14x17, but also not because I changed the events. I loved it, but I needed more hurt!Sam. (Other characters coming in the next chapter.)

Twenty minutes seemed like a lifetime and Dean was fairly certain they didn’t have twenty minutes to spare. Unfortunately, they didn’t have any other options either. He stared down at his brother before him, the younger man barely able to keep his eyes open, if you could even call them opened.

 

What little Dean could see of Sam’s eyes spoke volumes of the pain his brother was experiencing. Head wounds were never good and lord knows Sam has had his fair share. They always bled a lot and you never knew just what other damage could have been caused. The lightest hit in just the right spot could be such a devastating injury.

 

Just as Dean is beginning to consider drastic measures, he hears the flap of angelic wings. There’s no need to look up. He knows right away who it is and honestly doesn’t care at this point.

 

Within seconds of their names being spoken, Jack is right in front of them, his fingers pressed against Sam’s forehead. Something nagged at Dean, telling him this wasn’t right, but the louder voice was praying to a God he knew personally.

 

Dean saw the moment Sam’s rattled brain began to comprehend what was happening. The barely conscious man threw his shaky arms up, breaking Jack’s contact and trying to push himself up before Dean intervened.

 

“You gotta stay still, Sammy,” Dean had one hand pressed firmly to Sam’s chest and the other returned to the slightly healed injury.

 

“You’re okay. I can heal you.” Jack said, obviously confused by Sam’s reaction. “Let me help.”

 

Sam shook his head and Dean could tell he regretted that decision instantly. As much as he didn’t want to move Sam, he also didn’t want his brother to asphyxiate either. He carefully grabbed Sam’s shoulder and turned him on his side, gently brushing Sam’s bloody hair from his face and supporting the younger man’s head.

 

In the distance, Dean could hear the sirens and he wondered if they should just bail before the medics arrived, but he needed to know Sam was okay. Jack had given Sam the strength to hold his own, but while the blood had stopped dripping down the side of Sam’s face, his pupils were still the size of pennies.

 

When Dean was sure that Sam wasn’t going to lose anymore of his stomach contents, he carefully returned Sam to his back. The kid— yes, he said kid, because Sam will always be Dean’s kid— shut his eyes tightly and raised a shaky hand to his face.

 

“Can we just go home?” He reached for the wound but Dean quickly stopped his hand, squeezing tightly and silently conveying his own emotions.

 

Dean nodded at Jack as he started to pull Sam into a seating position, indicating for Jack to get behind for support. Once they had Sam seated against the Impala, Dean studied his brother even closer. Taking in the slight tremors, pale skin and dilated pupils. He was thankful Sam was more alert, but things were certainly not okay.

 

“Not yet, little brother.” Dean cupped the side of Sam’s neck and gave his best reassuring smile. “You either wait it out for the ambulance or you let the kid heal you. Pick your poison.”

 

“I’m fine though.” Sam started slipping sideways as Dean removed his hand just to make a point.

 

“Sure you are.” In seconds, Dean’s hand was right back to where it belonged, supporting Sam physically as well as emotionally. “For my sanity, I need you to pick one. Okay?”

 

Sam started to nod, but seemed to quickly remembered what happened last time and just continued to blink his eyes slowly instead. The younger man let his head fall forward, telling Dean all he needed to know.

 

“Jack, take Donatello back to Mom and get Nick on lock down.” Dean’s tone suddenly went from 0 to 60, spitting venom so dangerously. “I’ll handle him once Sam’s taken care of.”

 

It took Jack a second to respond, obviously wishing to protest, but deciding against it quickly. He hadn’t been around all that long, but Dean knew the boy was smart enough not to challenge him right now. Before Dean could say anything else, Donatello and Jack were gone leaving only the sound of approaching sirens in their wake.

 

From what Dean could tell the ambulance was less than 5 miles away now. He hadn’t even had time to come up with a story yet. They were currently on private property with two dead guys inside. To make things worse, Dean had two bruised and bloody knuckles to match the deceased, which would give anyone enough reason to believe he went mad and smashed in his own brother’s head.

 

“Hey, Sammy,” Dean slapped Sam’s pale cheek lightly until his eyes met Dean’s. “The ambulance should be here soon. We’re going to have to do what we do best and lie about our little situation here.”

 

“Car broke down?”

 

“That explains why we’re here, but not that rock sized gash.”

 

The sirens moved closer and Dean turned his eyes from his brother for the first time since he arrived back at the car. Through the thin line of trees, Dean could see the flashing lights making their way down the main road.

 

Sam tried to move his shaky hand to his back pocket, but Dean wasn’t having it. He snapped his fingers right in front of Sam’s face, concerned by the slow reaction time.

 

“What the hell are you doing?”

 

“Wallet,” Sam tried again to reach his back pocket but he gave up before Dean even jumped in to stop him this time.

 

“The ambulance ride is Mr. Phillips’ treat.” Dean referenced their current aliases assigned to their insurance cards and mentally prepared himself for the onslaught of questions about to come his way.

 

“Make it look like a robbery,” Sam’s eyes slipped closed again and his head fell sideways onto his shoulder. Leave it to his geek brother to still be thinking quick even with what Dean assumes was a nasty concussion.

 

As much as Sam hated lying, he was always the most creative one in the family. He’d let John and Dean take the lead, but typically Sam was the genius behind their elaborate cover stories. Dean wasn’t about to break that trend now.

 

He carefully reached behind Sam and slipped the wallet out of his brother’s back pocket. Making sure Sam wouldn’t fall right over, Dean snatched the bills out and stuffed them in his own pocket before throwing the wallet haphazardly to his left. He didn’t even try to hide his shudder when the wallet landed near the bloody rock.

 

“You’ll give it back,” Sam squinted at Dean, a small smile twitching at his lips.

 

“Like hell,” Dean laughed and raised his voice just a bit as the ambulance approached. “Consider it emotional restitution.”

 

The sirens stopped abruptly, but the engine still rumbled as the emergency vehicle came to a stop just a few feet from the brothers. A tall, scruffy looking medic climbed out of the passenger seat with a bag slung over his shoulder.

 

He gave the brothers a quick once over before falling to his knees beside Dean. Of course Dean stayed exactly where he was, his hand still resting on Sam’s shoulder.

 

“Sir, I’m going to need you to back up.” Dean almost told the scruffy guy where to shove it, but he didn’t want to get in the way of helping Sam.

 

He didn’t move far at all. Dean simply stood up, running a rough hand over his face as he watched the medic do everything Dean had already done. It took every ounce of self control for Dean not to holler at the guy probing Sammy’s head.

 

“How long as he been like this?”

 

 _At least 30 minutes considering how long it took you to get here_... was what Dean really wanted to say, he decided against it. It wouldn’t make this go any quicker.

 

“About 30 minutes,” Dean finally answered, moving to the other side so he could easily see Sam’s face for any signs of unnecessary discomfort.

 

“While his reaction is slow,” The medic explained as he moved the pin light from one side to the other, “He seems surprisingly alert.”

 

 _Thanks to angel magic_ , Dean thought. He listened as the female paramedic began asking Sam personal questions, nodding in confirmation. It was as if his body was running on autopilot, the stress finally sinking in along with relief all at the same time. He ran his hand through his hair and snapped his attention back to Sam the second he heard his name.

 

“Are you okay?” Sam stared, his eyes squinting painfully, but still had the nerve to worry about Dean. His brother turned to the medic, Sam’s puppy dog eyes seem even more powerful when they’re in pain. “Please check my brother. He won’t admit if something’s wrong.”

 

“Damnit, Sam,” Dean growled and waved off the medics concern. “I’m fine, really. I wasn’t even here when it happened. Went into the woods to uhhh… to relieve myself. Heard him holler and rushed back to find him on the ground.”

 

“You didn’t see what happened?” The female medic asked.

 

Dean shook his head and shrugged his shoulders, not sure what else there was to say. He really didn’t have the patience for these stupid questions. Oddly enough, all he could think about was getting Sam back to the bunker for game night. Why was that too much to ask?

 

“Does he need stitches?” Dean pointed toward Sam’s head, just now noticing the scruffy medic’s confusion.

 

“I don’t even know where all this blood came from,” He admitted, lifting a small patch of Sam’s matted hair. “I think we’re looking at a concussion here, but I can’t explain the rest.”

 

“Sammy’s always been a quick healer.” Dean chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck.

 

“Well, he’s going to be a bit uncomfortable and may even feel confused for awhile,” This time the female spoke up, turning toward Dean. “We recommend a trip to the hospital to rule out any further injury to the brain.”

 

“You think he has a brain injured?” His eyes go wide and he tried to cover the shiver than ran through his body. Sam didn’t even respond to that realization, which concerned him even more.

 

“No,” She corrected. “I’m simply telling you what is recommended in any case like this.”

 

“No, hospital,” Sam didn’t even bother to open his eyes. “Home, please.”

 

Dean watched the medics nod, the one that had been treating Sam stood up and backed away slightly. He wanted to argue. To tell them not to listen, but he knew that it was ultimately Sam’s decision.

 

As if sensing his uncertainty, the female medic turned back toward Dean with a sympathetic smile. “Just keep a close eye on him for the next 48 hrs.” She reaches her hand out to Dean, waiting for him to take it. “If you notice any unusual behavior or sudden mood changes, take him to the hospital without asking any questions.”

 

“I can do that,” Dean shook the medic’s hand and nodded in agreement. “Thank you!” He moved forward, back into his rightful spot next to Sam. “You ready to go home, Sasquatch?”

 

Dean couldn’t help the side smile that spread across his face when Sam’s eyes opened completely for the first time in what felt like hours. In reality it had only been about 40 minutes. Not that it mattered, any amount of time spent with an injured Sam was too many.

 

He would make sure his little brother took it easy for awhile, but he certainly wasn’t going to let Sam off easy. Injured or not, Dean was ready to get Sam back to the bunker with a blanket wrapped around him, a cup of warm liquid in front of him and stack of board games all ready for Dean to win.


End file.
